


Frankenstein

by cowboykylux



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: Date Night, F/M, Married Couple, Movie Night, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Spending quality time with your husband Paterson always makes your heart full, and going to the cinema for a late night showing of classic horror films is no exception.
Relationships: Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Frankenstein

You loved spending time with him, with Paterson. He was so gentle, so kind. Handsome.

He was a joy to be around, a joy to be _with,_ and you adored every moment you could steal with him. Not that moments were scarce, not at all. You kissed him goodbye before work and you kissed him hello when he returned to you, you enjoyed weekends together wrapped up in each other’s company.

But on Friday nights, it was tradition to go to the cinema at midnight, see one of the old classic monster movies they would play. You didn’t know how the movie theater had so many of the old film reels, but there was something magical about it, about the way the antique projector flickered and whirred as King Kong or The Invisible Man or Dracula or or or, all made their way onto the screen.

You’re at the cinema with him now, your head pillowed on Paterson’s shoulder. Frankenstein is just rising to life now, having been struck awake by lightning.

“That’s how I feel sometimes.” Paterson whispers softly to you.

Your fingers tangled and twined together in the extra-large bucket in your lap. It had to be an extra-large, otherwise his hand wouldn’t fit in at all, let alone the both of yours together.

“What do you mean?” You whisper back, careful not to disturb any of the other movie-goers.

There aren’t many people here tonight, which is exactly what you prefer. You and Paterson have seen these movies so many times that you often quote along with the actors, often make your own silly commentary of the goingsons.

You also kiss, deeply, passionately, for long periods of time during the parts you know are boring. Sometimes even during the parts you know aren’t. You always sit in the back, far away from potential intruders, the dark cool movie theater nothing more than a blanket of red velvet seat cushions and the smell of popcorn.

“Sometimes when I look at you I feel like I’ve been electrified, like I’m alive, really alive.” He explains, and there he goes again, making you fall in love with him all over.

A true poet, with the way he speaks, always. You wish you had the words, wish you knew how to string them together so thoughtfully the way that he does. Sometimes you do, and you feel so proud for managing it, managing to say the way Paterson makes you feel so eloquently.

But other times, times like these, you’re too in love for your brain to come up with them.

“Me too.” Is all you can muster, trying to fight back tears of emotion, of love, of adoration for him, your husband.

“Yeah?” He asks, craning his neck to look at you, to kiss you, bending down and rubbing his big nose against yours.

“Yeah.” You whisper back, salty smiles brushing together.

And it seems to be enough, at least for now, this small declaration in a dark and empty theater, as the black and white flickers some feet away, you pillow your head back on his shoulder and seek his fingers out once more in the popcorn bucket, grateful for this gentle tradition with your kind, sweet man.


End file.
